Alone upon the housetops to the North
I turn and watch the lightnings in the sky-
The glamour of thy footsteps in the North.
Come back to me, Beloved, or I die.
Below my feet the still bazar is laid-
Far, far below the weary camels lie-
The camels and the captives of thy raid.
Come back to me, Beloved, or I die!
My father's wife is old and harsh with years,
And drudge of all my father's house am I-
My bread is sorrow and my drink is tears.
Come back to me, Beloved, or I die!
